


Morning Routine

by Ferrety



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Drabble, Flatsharing shenanigans, M/M, Not Betaed, in a way ?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26379208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferrety/pseuds/Ferrety
Summary: It would always be too early to deal with Newton singing in the bathroom.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	Morning Routine

**Author's Note:**

> I have million WIPs but for SOME REASON the mania possessed me to sit down and dish out a single newmann drabble thing in one go. More power for AO3 I guess since that's what, my third post this year ??? absolutely earth-shattering.  
> Unbetaed we die like men
> 
> (Im wondering if i should write more of those two lol)

This was not what Hermann had expected coming home to, and it was probably worse than the war.

Well, this was misleading. It was, actually, kind of what he had expected to come home to, given that Newton had been there when he left a mere half an hour ago to « get breakfast » (cigarettes), and it would have been frankly worrying if Newton had not, in fact, been there when he got back. Here, in their shared, low-rent low-quality flat that rivaled his worst university-era flatshare in terms of outright squallor. That was were Newton was supposed to be, these days, for reasons they didn't want to dwell on yet. Well. That Hermann didn't feel ready to dwell on yet.

Anyway. Newton being there, in their common and shitty windowless bathroom (ceiling crawling with a black mold Hermann didn't want to examine, cracks threatening to wreck the whole room into a rumble of dust any day now), wasn't the problem. Newton belting in that squeaky-shrill voice of him the lyrics Coldplay's Paradise, that was pretty normal too. Not his usual choice in music, but then, he's probably switch for something more, ah, daring, in a few forgotten half-jarbled sentences.

He'd never ever considered indulging Hermann and just... sing a bit more quietly, when he was freshening up in the bathroom. Hermann had to listen to him spit toothpaste all over their mirror, every single morning. ("you could at least consider singing something actually pleasant, Newton." "Aw, man. Everything is pleasant in that sweet baritone of mine. ") (He started including some of Hermann's guilty pleasure songs after that row, though.)

So far, so good. Except for one, small, little detail, a tiny, minor, minuscule detail that was threatening to derail Hermann's entire world into some fast-approaching wall of dumbfoundness.

Newton had left the bathroom door half-open.

And, look. It didn't have to be earth-shattering. In itself. Just, oh, blimey, would you look at that, Newton forgot to close the bathroom door before he started brushing his teeth. A completely unremarkable event. In itself.

Except Hermann now had to witness Newton belting songs, spitting toothpaste, and apparently, half dance as he brushed his teeth.

This would have been okay.

This could have been okay.

This should have been okay.

Except that Newton was jiggling, swaying from one leg to the other, flexing and making faces at his reflection, even -god forbid- thrusting his hips wildly, and he was.

Well.

He was.

Completely, absolutely, earth-shatteringly naked.

Hermann couldn't catch his shell-shocked whine in time to stop it from climbing through his throat, but it didn't seem to matter against Newton's ear-splitting volume.

Goodness gracious, he was shaking his butt now. Hermann had a front-row seat in ass jiggles. Which, he supposed was fine. It was better to fixate on Newton's almost comically white butt than onto his front reflection. Yes. Probably.

Hermann blinked several times before he could force his gaze upward, but Newton's soft and tattooed back wasn't much of a respite for his quickly fizzling out brain functions.

_I thought there would be tattoos here, too._

Newton was rinsing out the foam, now. Bending over the sink.

Hermann should most certainly move, but he was rooted to the spot.

 _Don't stand here,_ he thought. _Don't stand here and ogle Newton. Don't stand here and ogle Newton as he straightens and starts shaking again. Don't stand here and ogle Newton's-_

_Clear your throat or something, at least._

Except he couldn't. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Newton bent over again to reach for his towel and vigorously dry his hair (no wonder it was always in such a sorry state, if that was how he usually went about it), and started gyrating even more as the song morphed into something decidedly more _punk-rock._

Hermann gave up on a lost cause then. His eyes were horrifically, irrevocably dragged downward, through hillsof tattooed skin, growing increasingly hairier until all there was to find on that dark, curly field was Newton's soft, bouncing dick.

It was sickenly fascinating. Newton was fingergunning at his double in the mirror, and all Hermann could do was stare at his dick.

With each (enthusiastic) thrust, it bobbed. Hermann felt his mouth going dry, and something like fifteen years of repression pound at his metaphorical door.

This was not how he envisionned their flatshare at all.

Newton skipped a beat to towel his face, his singing slowing down to a mumble.

Hermann had to move. _Now._

Before he contemplated Newton's (soft, jiggly, colorful, hairy, perfect, enticing-) naked body too long and it became engraved in his brain. (Too late. He already wanted to run his hands all over the softness of that belly, he wanted to kneel and watch that soft cock harden into his hand into his face and he wanted to slip behind Newton and circle him into his arms and rest his head onto that soft, soft-looking shoulder and were he a braver man, maybe he would have. As it was... He had to move.)

Except, if he moved now, the movement in Newton's field of vision would surely spring to attention. Certainly, if he moved now, Newton would catch him, and he would be embarassed, perhaps even angry, at having been caught like this. Then again, maybe not : this was Newton, after all. Maybe he'd turn to him, grin, and say "Enjoying the show, Herms ?", to which Hermann would have to scoff and say "Don't be ridiculous, absolutely not, you depraved creature", but Newton knew him by now, maybe some memory from their Drift gave him away already anyway, and so he wouldn't be fooled at all, he'd grin even wider and come closer, bracing himself against the doorway, proudly naked and on display as he leered at Hermann, "sure, Herms. I'm totally convinced, here. " and then he would lower his heated gaze to Hermann's (clearly interested) crotch, and raise his eyebrows, and then he'd smile, again, and crowd Hermann against their front door, and Hermann would protest but-

He forced himself to snap back into reality before he pictured a naked Newton mouthing at his neck.

It was quite a feat.

He definitely had to move while Newton was otherwise distracted. Perhaps while he rummaged into the closet, or while he was putting product in his hair, anything that would keep him focused on something else than the mirror or his peripheral vision. That would be Hermann's opportunity to (silently) slip out of sight, into their living room, where he could sit onto the sofa and breathe until he could pretend nothing untowards ever happened.

(Or, more probably, slip into his bedroom, where he would promptly and silently rub one out, while Newton was still singing too loud for any incriminating whisper to reach his ears.)

Yes. This was a sound plan.

One that implied he keep staring at Newton in the meanwhile, to detect and anticipate the best moment to act, unfortunately. Very unfortunately.

Hermann's mouth had been dry before.

It was now close to watering.

Then, suddenly, without any warning, Newton stopped singing, his gaze took a sharp turn, and he locked eyes with Hermann's reflection.

A slow, wolfish smile crept onto Newton's giddy face.

"What's up, man ? Enjoying the view ?"

Hermann blinked a few times.

"...Guh."

Newton's grin only widened. He turned, took a few steps towards Hermann, and leaned a hip against the bathroom door.

"You'll have to be more convincing than that."

Hermann blinked even more. He could feel his face heating up.

Unfortunately, his mouth watering earlier meant he had to gulp a few times to clear the way for words.

But, fortunately, Newton was a lot quicker, and reached for him first.


End file.
